Torment (B.A.D. Inc Book 1)

by Angel Devlin

  “That was fantastic girls. You’re naturals at this.”

  “Well we have had a lot of practice.” Karla laughs.

  “So, we’re going to bring a couple of guys into the place now,” the producer says.

  My brow creases. “But this isn’t on our shooting script.”

  “Yeah, we want to improvise with this. Just go with it. If it doesn’t work, we’ll not use it, but I think it’ll be amazing.”

  I look at Karla but she just shrugs her shoulders. “We knew they’d try to set us up with some guys. This must be the first introduction.”

  We get all set and Karla speaks her line, “I’m so ready to meet someone new. I want some new adventures you know. To be able to travel a little.”

  “I know what you mean,” I say looking around and then improvisation certainly comes into play.

  “Oh god, what’s he doing here?” I try not to pull a face.

  Kayla’s head shoots around. “What. Oh shoot, Archie.”

  What indeed. Why the fuck have they brought my ex here and into episode one? This is supposed to be about creating a great future, not dragging out my past.

  We have to get up and do the whole air kissing thing all over again and then Archie’s ‘friend’ Roy, who Archie has never hung with before to my knowledge but is a London born DJ, begins a conversation with Karla about the set he’s soon to do.

  “Be great to hear what you think of it. Maybe we could have a drink after?”

  “Oh that’d be amazing, don’t you think, Mia?”

  I nod and smile, but right now I just want to get out of here, away from Archie bloody Cherrington, who is sat far too near to me, his thigh brushing mine. I remember the man whose thigh brushed against me only days ago, he certainly sparked a few more tingles than my past is right now.

  “It’s great to see you, Mia. I know you ended things between us because you felt I wasn’t the love of your life, or you the love of mine. But I’m going to show you how wrong you were. I love you, Mia, and I think if you could just give me a chance, we could have something special.”

  “It’s over, Archie. I made that clear.” Because you shagged someone else. I take a drink of my champagne. A large one.

  They yell cut again.

  “That’s amazing. Thank you. Okay, Mia, if you could excuse yourself to visit the ladies and then Archie if you could intercept her on the way out and let a moment pass between you.

  I don’t want this to happen, but I signed up for this. To go with the script. So now I have no choice but to do as asked.

  They record me leaving the bathroom, and Archie pulling me to one side. He pleads with me to give him a second chance and I tell him I don’t know. I have to say I’m confused and I don’t know what I want and then Archie has to lean in and kiss me softly on the lips before he leaves. I have to look longingly after him like I might want him back after all. Like fucking hell.

  Then it’s time to film Karla with Roy. I’m not needed for another hour and I can’t get out of the building fast enough. I escape like I have a serial killer on my arse. Unfortunately, I walk straight into Archie who’s outside enjoying a cigar.

  “Mia. Surprise!” he exclaims.

  “Yes, you could say that.”

  “We should get back together, babes. You know, for publicity. Have the viewers itching for us to get together and then seal the deal. What do you say to a contract to marry me for twelve months or so? Just until we’ve milked it.”

  “She says go fuck yourself.” A familiar voice says, and Deacon appears at the side of me. He hooks his arm through mine and pulls me into his side.

  “Who’s this?” Archie looks down his nose at Deacon.

  “I’m her lover.”

  Archie’s eyes widen and then he laughs.

  “Fancying a bit of rough are you, Mia? Go for it. We can still do our deal. I don’t mind sharing.”

  The look that comes over Deacon’s face would freeze hell over.

  “I don’t share my toys.” Leaning in, he licks the lobe of my ear. Goose bumps take flight all up my arms and I shiver.

  Archie keeps a bemused look on his face. “Enjoy her. She doesn’t belong in your world. She’ll soon return to mine.”

  Deacon holds out his hand. “Deacon King, Celebrity Director of B.A.D. magazine.”

  Archie’s eyes widen once more. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Thought you were some hick she’d picked up to teach me a lesson. Do you think your magazine would feature us if we got back together?”

  “No, because you’re not getting back together.” Deacon snarls. “You can romance her on screen. You can create whatever romance/drama you want on camera, but as soon as they call cut and the world of scripted reality comes to a close, she’s mine. She’ll be in my bed, riding on my cock, screaming my name. Do you understand? You have her on loan for the programme, then if you lay one finger on her I’ll make sure it’s broken painfully for you. Are you understanding me?”

  “Y- yes, okay. Just for the script. Of course. Well, excuse me. I have calls to make.” Archie walks away, only glancing back over his shoulder once, no doubt to make sure the scary man isn’t following him.

  “Hmm, I feel I should say thank you for you getting him off my back, even if you did do it in your usual alpha arsehole way.”

  He chuckles at that. His eyes light up, flashing those blues at me and I’m struck by his devastating looks. There should be a law against Deacon King’s bone structure and hypnotic irises. I’m wrongfooted by his amusement.

  “Alpha arsehole. I’m having that put on my business cards.” He smirks. “Now where were you storming off to? I’ll come with you.”

  “Is it a coincidence you’re in the vicinity?” I ask him.

  “Of course not. I made sure to come and see the first day of filming. I’ve been asking the crew some questions about things.”

  “I don’t suppose one the questions was ‘why the fuck did you bring Archie Cherrington into it?’ Was it?”

  “You can’t blame them. I’m surprised you didn’t expect it. I certainly did. I gather there’s no love lost between the two of you?”

  “He likes to fuck barely out-of-school teenagers. He just wants me for my ‘wife on the arm’ credentials.”

  “I can destroy him. You only have to ask.”

  “Why are you being nice to me?” I indicate between us. “We don’t do this. You annoy me and I tell you to fuck off.”

  “Well, after enduring your friend’s company last night, I’ve decided we should start again. I like you, Mia. You’re refreshing. Not to mention hot as fuck.” He leans in again and bites my earlobe this time.

  “Will you stop that?” I say, mainly because it’s doing strange things to my insides. “Now, I’m going to go and get a burger, because I’m starving.”

  “Let’s go,” he says.

  Despite my protests, he follows me to a restaurant where I ask if they can quickly get me a burger despite the fact they’re full. I offer to pay more. As soon as I wave my special edition credit card in their direction, they find us a table. Deacon sits opposite me and I order him a scotch.

  “Don’t you have a celebrity to go annoy, interview, or fuck?” I ask, taking a bite of my burger.

  “Yep. Just waiting to see which one she chooses.” He winks at me.

  “Stop, before I barf up what I’ve eaten.”

  “Why have you signed up for this show? And don’t give me the stock answer I got from you the other day because I’m not buying it. Strictly off the record. Tell me.”

  I stop eating. “My mother is incredible. She took herself largely out of the public eye so that she could bring me up with what she felt was a normal life. But the press never really let her go and it’s not like I was brought up on a council estate is it? We live in a mansion. But her and my stepfather, well, they still spoiled me rotten, and I know it sounds ungrateful, but I want to do something, create something for myself. I don’t feel like a person, Deacon. I f
eel like a pampered princess and like I’m brain dead.”

  “And how the fuck is that going to change acting like a pampered princess on a reality show?”

  I bristle a little at his tone.

  “I’m going to use the show to get my face even more well-known than on Insta. Hopefully get my beauty brand set up. I want to show viewers that I’m an independent woman with a mind of my own. Then I plan on putting something back into the community. I don’t know what yet, but something I can work hard on, that does great things and maybe helps those less fortunate than myself.”

  “Dear God, it’s motherfucking Theresa.” He necks his scotch and bangs his glass down on the table.

  “You asked the question and now I wish I’d never actually told you. I don’t know why I did. You’re another one of the people who think just because a person’s been raised with everything their heart desires, they don’t have issues. Well I do. For a start I lost my real daddy when I was very small and though I’m so lucky to have Giles and he’s been like a real father to me, he can’t ever fill the space vacated by my birth father. It’s his legacy that funds my existence and I can’t even thank him.

  I feel like I’m watching different weather fronts pass over the man in front of me. Like thunder working its way into a sunnier day. Eventually he looks up at me.

  “I’m sorry. I guess my current actions are just backing up what you said. You’re right, we don’t see the elite rich as having any problems, because we believe money can solve them all.”

  “Well it can’t.”

  “So, I said you owe me. I know you have to get back to filming, but tomorrow I know is a rest day. You’re to spend the entire day with me. Let me show you I’m genuinely sorry for how I’ve been behaving, and I promise not to be an alpha arsehole.”

  I should say no.

  He took my friend out last night.

  He’s an, as he just so helpfully reminded me, alpha arsehole.

  Except right now he genuinely seems okay, and he did get rid of Archie for me.

  “It’s not a date, right?”

  “I don’t date. I’m offering my company for the day and if you want to thank me for it later, I wouldn’t say no.”

  “It’s not a date, and I won’t be thanking you for your company either. In fact, I don’t even know why I’m considering it.”

  “Because you feel it. The push and pull between us, and so there’s no point really in protesting. We’re inevitable.”

  His hand dips below the table and he trails his fingers from my knee up the slit in the dress I’m wearing. He pulls his chair further towards mine and then his hand dips higher. My legs part for him as his fingers brush over the lace of my panties. My breath catches as he increases the pressure. I should push him away. Shout at him for taking advantage of me once again. But I do neither of those things because his touch feels too damn good.

  Then the same fingers move away, far before I’m ready for them to, and wave in the air to ask for the bill.

  This man has me not knowing which way is up and now I have to go back to the club, dance with my ex and listen to the DJ, when all I want right now is Deacon King to be fucking me against a wall.

  I know he’s bad for me. But it feels so fucking good.

  Chapter Eleven

  Deacon

  I can’t believe she said yes so easily. Truth was, I was expecting to have a fight on my hands, even if that meant turning up at their penthouse tomorrow morning and forcing her to spend the day with me. I know she’s interested. I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me. She’s had a taste of what I’m capable of and the sparkle in her eye says she wants to experience more.

  After walking her back to the club, I’m forced to let her go inside and towards that wanker ex of hers. I had a feeling he’d be a scumbag just from the little bit of information I had on him, but in reality, he was even worse than I was expecting. His hair is all slicked back with more wet look gel than I think I’ve ever used in my life. It must be like water off a duck’s back if he gets caught in a rain shower without an umbrella—heaven forbid. He was clean shaven and wearing fucking tweed, he couldn’t possibly be any more stereotypical posh boy if he tried. I didn’t waste time looking at his feet, but I bet his trousers were an inch too short, exposing his douchebag ankles. I shake my shoulders out, trying to rid myself of the need to go and punch the fucker in the face for even looking at what’s mine tonight.

  I find myself back in the manager’s office with my nose almost pressed up against the glass windows that look down on the dance floor below. Mia and Karla are dancing together. The ex and his friend are also there but they’ve been joined now by a few others, I’ve no idea if they’re people Mia and Karla know or if they’ve been set up by production. As long as none of them touch Mia, I couldn’t really give a fuck either way to be honest.

  I’ve no idea how long I stand there watching her move in time with the music. The sway to her hips is hypnotic and the longer I stare, the harder my cock gets and the more desperate I become to drag her up here to fuck her over the desk to get what I need. But as tempting as the thought is, I know I need to bide my time. I might be the most untrustworthy arsehole on the planet but that’s what I need if I’m going to succeed here. I need her trust. Only then will I be able to achieve what I’ve set out to.

  When my frustration begins to get the better of me, I leave the office, slamming the door behind me and sneaking out of the back exit.

  Once I’m in a car heading for home, I drag my phone from my pocket.

  Deacon: If he so much as lays a finger on you tonight, I’ll end him.

  Three little dots immediately start bouncing beneath my message, making me wonder if they’ve already stopped filming, but much to my disappointment a reply never comes through.

  Anger burns through my veins that she thinks ignoring me is part of the game we’re playing.

  Deacon: Answer in twenty minutes or I’m calling in what you owe me. Tonight.

  She reads it. The two little ticks turn blue but still, no response.

  Needing to do something to fill twenty minutes, I strip off and head for the shower.

  Dressed in a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, I grab my phone, praying that I’ve not had a response.

  Sure as shit, when I wake it up I find that the defiant little bitch still hasn’t responded.

  With my cock already tenting my sweats at the thought, I grab my car keys and floor the accelerator of my Aston Martin. I do some very questionable overtakes as I make my way to Park Lane but I can’t find it in me to care.

  I pull my car to a stop out the front of their building and give my name to the doorman. Another thing that Karla did for me, she added my name to her approved visitors list. He nods at me and allows me to pass while wishing me a pleasant visit. I hope it’s more than fucking pleasant.

  I rap my knuckles on their door three times and wait. I haven’t checked my phone again. It was too late for me to turn around if she’d answered, she missed her time slot. Reading that she doesn’t want me here would only serve to piss me off even more.

  It seems to take an eternity but eventually the sound of heels against their tiled floor reaches my ears before the lock clicks and the door’s pulled open.

  “Deacon?” Mia asks, her brows drawing together. Her eyes drop from mine in favour of my body. My cock twitches at her attention. When she looks back up her eyes have darkened significantly and she’s chewing on her bottom lip. If I had any doubt that she wouldn’t let me in, then it’s just been smashed.

  She’s still dressed as she was earlier and her sweet scent filters up to my nose, making my need for her even more apparent.

  I take a step forward so she can’t slam the door in my face, just in case that’s what she’s considering.

  “Too busy to read your messages properly?”

  “Sorry, I was dealing with Karla. Did you want something?” She leans into the door with her hip and the move only accentuates
her already full tits. My eyes drop and I bite down on my bottom lip as I remember just how she tasted when I sucked them into my mouth.

  “There are plenty of things I want, Mia. I’m just trying to decide which one I want first.”

  I push past her and walk down the hallway to the living area. I find Karla passed out on the sofa with one leg hanging off showing the world the hot pink lace that’s barely covering her modesty.

  “Ignore her. She’s drunk again,” Mia says coming up behind me.

  “I didn’t come here for her.”

  Spinning, I pin Mia with a look that has her swallowing down her nerves having me in her personal space.

  “Order me a scotch. And re-read your messages while you’re at it.” I fall down on to the sofa opposite her passed out friend.

  “Um…” she hesitates and I half expect her to demand I leave, but after a few seconds she turns and walks towards the kitchen. I make the most of the little black dress she’s still wearing that clings to every single inch of her body.

  She returns a few moments later with her hands on her hips and a defiant look in her eyes that I love.

  “I’m not playing your games tonight, Deacon. I’m exhausted after being forced to spend the night with Archie and then having to deal with her,” she nods her head over to Karla who’s now snoring, her mouth wide open, looking very unladylike.

  “What if I told you I could make you forget about all of that?”

  “I’m not interested. Have your scotch and then go home. I’ve already agreed to spend tomorrow with you.” She sounds totally wiped out, but she’s forgetting something. I’m the alpha arsehole who doesn’t care what others think as long as I get what I want.

  A knock sounds out and she quickly goes to collect my scotch.

  “Here, and get quick about it.”

  “I do love how welcoming you are tonight,” I say with a wink and take a small sip.

  “When have I ever been welcoming to you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, when you were crying my name you were quite happy about it.”

  She winces as the memory hits her. A blush hits her cheeks and creeps down her neck.